The light that doesn't work

[Emily]

Ok so here goes my first journal. Phew! I don't know what I'm doing. I find it hard to express much unless its through drawing or one on one with a person close to me. I'll start with my obsession. That should be easy to talk about.
There is this light down the street where I work. It's just a three way stop light. Every night I get off work its pitch black until I get to this one stop light. What's special about this light is that it never works until the electric people decide there is an occasion for it. But usually there is no one else there so I sit and stare at this blinking red eye for a few seconds every day. I don't know why but it's like a magnetic field that forces me to look at it. It seems poetic and sad. I wish I could speak to it and learn what it has seen and why it has been so neglected until it can be used for someone else's selfish purpose.
Anyway it has given me something to write about in my free time. Maybe it would be something worth reading?

[butterbean]

Ah, I would love to read something like that! Just the thought of a sentence or a full on story centered around a subject like that makes me wanting more. :)

[Emily]

jellybean wrote: "Ah, I would love to read something like that! Just the thought of a sentence or a full on story centered around a subject like that makes me wanting more. :)"
I'm glad to hear that! I am definitely more inspired to finish it now. :)

[Emily]

I won't be seeing that red light tonight. Instead I will see its users, blocking it only pretending they will be there for it. They do that once in a while. It scares me because what if they fix it again? It will only break down once they are done. They don't really care.

[Emily]

As an introvert I don't mind being alone, but this is loneliness. I find it extremely difficult to find someone or something that I attach to instantly and when I do it is instantly ripped from my grasp.
It's the worst when I attach to people. They are ever-changing unpredictable things. I can even form attachments to people I have never met.
As Von Goethe once wrote, “What a torment it is to see so much loveliness passing and repassing before us, and yet not dare to lay hold of it!”
The curse to be human is that nothing can ever be mine alone.